


The Best She Could Hope For

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Rocky Horror Picture Show
Genre: Explicit Language, F/F, Mild Sexual Content, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 23:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody in her life had said she couldn’t commit. She couldn’t stay put. She couldn’t accept life for what it really was. So she stuck her tongue out at them and hitchhiked and tried again in the next town. Set pre-film.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best She Could Hope For

Everybody in her life had said she couldn’t commit. She couldn’t stay put. She couldn’t accept life for what it really was. So she stuck her tongue out at them and hitchhiked and tried again in the next town. It didn’t mean they were right, it just meant she didn’t like them and if she didn’t like something, who said she had to put up with it.

Other people said she was too loud, moved and talked too fast so it wasn’t a surprise that nobody could keep up with her. Well, fuck them, she said with her fake lipstick red smile shining brightly. She pulled up her corset, bent to put her high heels on and didn’t let the door hit her on the ass as she left.

It suited her, not having a job or a romance to pin her down, she thought as she stretched her arms back, letting the wind flow over her face like you could only do when being driven fast in a convertible, this is true freedom.

Later that evening, her legs spread in order to get her that little bit further on her journey, she decided freedom was overrated.

In the harsh light of the morning, she thanked the guy, checking her makeup was smeared just right and her hair stuck up in funny places, screaming for her about what she’d done the night before. She slammed the car door and started walking.

Her thoughts from last night revisited her. She didn’t want to stop, she never wanted to stop, she just wanted to pause for a bit. Catch her breath.

As if by divine command, the sound of a truck met her ears. She stuck her thumb out, ready to flash her tits if she needed to. She didn’t, the truck stopped and the door swung open.

The man inside looked as _free_ as she was, he was covered in black, a leather jacket, fishnets and heels higher than her own. She wanted to say _Goddamn, how do you drive in those bitches?_ but instead she said thank you, doll, and got in the truck.

He stared at her, a manic glint in her eyes and for a second she was scared. “Aren’tcha gonna ask where I’m going?”

“Oh, I know where you’re going.” He gave her a wink. “You’re going home.”

When they got to the castle, it felt right. She felt like she’d found somewhere she could be without it holding her in. Riff Raff ran her over with a duster and Magenta slid her out of her well worn clothes.

“You should keep these, they’re nice.” She said, in her long foreign drawl and handed her back her clothes.

“I wonder how long she’ll last.” Riff Raff said, like she wasn’t there.

“I like her.” Magenta said, staring straight at her.

Her first night, she was in the red room. Like her hair, Frank had said with a forced smile. A few hours later he would come back to her bed and she’d earn her keep.

Magenta came in after he left and painted her nails while humming some song in a language she didn’t understand.

Months passed like that, Columbia would run around the mansion after Frank and Magenta would run around after her. She was so naive she didn’t really notice what was happening.

Frank would bring people home and they would _entertain_ them. They’d always leave but she never saw them go. Once she asked why he brought them back and he said he was looking for someone suitable, like her but with what she was lacking. When she asked what that was and he told her, she made an indignant sound and slapped him. She was being replaced because she didn’t have a dick.

She stopped following him about after that, instead bringing her own catches back. It was her that brought back Eddie and they had a sweet set up for a while. She spent hours with him, knickers round her ankles and music blaring loud. After a while, Frank told her about how Magenta liked to watch, jealous, on the monitor. It stopped being as much fun after that and she was vaguely aware of how Frank seemed to be spending more and more time with Eddie and eventually she was back to sleeping alone.

On night, Eddie disappeared entirely and everyone refused to tell her where he’d gone and why.

Once night, when she was crying into her pillow, Magenta slipped through her door, something she hadn’t done in months.

“Nails?” Magenta asked, pulling back the sheer curtain around the bed.

“They’re done.” Columbia held up a hand and stifled her tears.

“You can do mine.” She took the hand that was held up and gave it a tug.

There was a small cot in the corner, which Magenta pulled out before sitting Columbia down on it. She left the room for a few minutes and returned with a bottle and a joint.

“You drink this.” She handed Columbia the bottle and waited while she took a swig. “And smoke this.” She did the same while Columbia took a toke, laughing and pulling her to her chest when she started coughing. “You’ll get used to it.”

Columbia didn’t remember much of the night, but it was sealed in her memory as the last time she slept in the red room. She finally felt like she belonged there.

The cot became hers and Magenta gave her permission to decorate the room how she liked, make it hers. A few hours later she had to bat her eyelashes to pull Magenta out of the sour mood she’d been in since she saw the wall sized photo of Eddie. She nearly took it down again but she found it served as a good reminder. _Boys break your heart._

Eventually she caught on to Magenta’s attraction to her, because in one those moments of clarity that wine offers she realised how Magenta’s hand was stroking her calf even though she was meant to be painting her toes. Another moment of clarity and she thought, maybe this is what Magenta does when she thinks she’ll be too drunk to notice or remember.

Columbia raises her head and tilts it to the side. “Huh.”

Magenta knows she knows and lets her hand trail further up, until it’s on her thigh. Columbia’s stomach tightened and she felt nervous for the first time in a really long time. She’d sworn off relationships. She didn’t do _committed_ but she Magenta couldn’t be _just a bit of fun_ , not when they shared a room, shared a home. She was about to say something when one of Magenta’s long, ruby red nailed fingers slid inside her. After that she completely forgot about fun and commitment and the difference between the two because all she could think about was the finger curling inside her.

The next morning Magenta was gone, like she always was and Columbia told herself it had been a crazy dream. The thought made her sad and she moped around the house, earning herself a slap on the ass and an instruction to cheer up from Frank.

At dinner Magenta got shouted at for serving her first and when she finally was allowed to sit, her hand found Columbia’s and squeezed it, her face showing no hint of anything unusual. Columbia was amazed to find relief wash over her and her heart beat faster in her chest.

After dinner she waited in her room, sitting on the edge of the cot and tapping her toe against the floor. She felt like a school girl again.

Magenta finally slipped in, barely opening the door and pausing by it when she saw Columbia waiting.

Columbia stared at her, seeing her in a way she never really had before. She took in the sheer see-through negligee that had been her uniform for today and the fact that her garter belt wasn’t attached to anything, it was just there and little things she never used to notice, like the way she was pausing.

They didn’t say anything; they both just stared, waiting for the other to make some decisive move. To say _what are we doing_ or _let’s be more than this_.

Columbia smiled and blinked, making that move. She stood and approached Magenta, brushing her hands against the sheer negligee and finding her waist, pulling her into a kiss.

Who knew if she could commit or not but she knew this feeling, holding onto the only person in the world who made her want to commit, was the best she could hope for.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'commit' and the genre 'sci-fi' for Challenge #7: Writing Roulette @ http://femslash-land.livejournal.com/
> 
>  


End file.
